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THE WRECKER'S DAUGHTER 



A DRAMA IN THREE ACTS 



BY ,y^ 

BERNARD FRANCIS MOORE 

AUTHOR OF "CAPTAIN JACK," "THE IRISH AGENT," " BROTHER 
AGAINST BROTHER," ETC. 



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^.UO-^I^' 



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BOSTON 






1896 




THE WRECKER'S DAUGHTER 



CHARACTERS. ' *^ TJt'^^J 

Capt. Bill Bowen, Wrecker and Smuggler. ' « i D V v' (' 

Phil King, Lieutenant of the gunboat *' AIcAdams.^* 

Jim Douglass, Lajidlord and Wrecker. 

Ned Harwood, a Detective in search of a lost child. 

Pat Murphy, an Emigrant from over the sea. 

Essie Bowen, the Captain^ s adopted Daughter — a waif from the sea, 

Lucy Gray, Bowe7i's maid of all work. 



Costumes modern. 



Time the present. 



Scene. — A fishing village on the coast of Maine. 

Act First. — Douglass' Tavern. The spy. 

Act Second. — Bowen's home. Foiling the wreckers. 

Act Third. — Bowen's home. The end of all. 



iZ'Hq 




Copyright, 1896, by Walter H. Baker & Co, 



COSTUMES. 

Capt. Bowen. — A man of fifty; gray hair and beard; blue flannel 
shirt; black pants and coat ; leather belt around waist; soft hat. 

Phil KiNC.-^Young man of thirty ; smooth face ; shabby coat and 
pants; coat buttoned tightly to chin; underneath is a sailor's 
jacket of U. S. M. ; stiff hat. 

Jim Douglass. — A man of forty; black coat and pants; flannel shirt; 
heavy black mustache; slouch hat. 

Ned Harwood. — A man of forty; neat gray suit; derby hat; smooth 
face. 

Pat Murphy. — A man of thirty ; red wig and mustache ; gray pants ; 
black coat and vest ; white shirt ; stiff hat. 

Essie Bov^en. — Fashionable walking dress ; black hat, gloves, veil and 
parasol, for Act First. A plain house dress and white apron for 
Acts Second and Third. 

Lucy Gray. — A plain dress, with hat and parasol for Act First only. 




THE WRECKER'S DAUGHTER. 



ACT I. 

Scene. — A plain room ; doors L. aitdK. ; large door Q., to open j 
a bar from R. 3 E. to R. 5 E. Down L. is a table and chairs ; 
down R. is a table and chairs ; on L. side of door c. is a 
cannon of medium size mounted on a wooden carriage, 
Phil is asleep at table L. as curtain rises. 

Jim (co7ning from behind bar and shaking Phil). Come, 
come, young fellow, brace up now and get a move on you. 
What do you take this place for anyway ? {Shaking him.) 
Brace up, I tell you ! 

Phil {yawns and opens his eyes). What is that you say ? 

\Looks around in stir prise. 

Jim. I am telling you to brace up. This is no public lodg- 
ing place. I rent rooms to those that want them, but I allow 
no sleeping in this room. 

Phil {in surprise). Have I been asleep long ? 

Jim {in ainazement). Asleep ? Great Caesar, all the guns 
on a man-o*-war couldn't wake you up. I've heard tell of the 
seven sleepers, but if you are not the eighth one, then I don't 
know who is. {Quickly.) Where did you come from anyhow ? 

Phil. From Dover. I lost my way, and seeing this house I 
came here and found it was a tavern, so I determined to rest 
myself awhile. The heat from walking in the sun and not being 
used to it made me drowsy and I was asleep before I knew it. 

Jim {stands beside table with hands in his pockets). You 
say you come from Dover ? 

Phil {nodding). Yes. 

Jim {looking around). When you left there did you see any 
sign of a revenue cutter called the •* McAdams " ? Or did you 
hear such a name mentioned ? Were they expecting any strange 
boat ? 

Phil {aside). I must be on my guard. {Aloud:) Some 
strange boat did come in just before I left, the name of which I 

_- . 5 



THE WRECKER S DAUGHTER. 

did not stop to learn. But it must have been of great impor- 
tance by the amount of excitement it created. 

Jim. What sort of a looking boat was it "^ 

Phil {aside). He takes a great interest in the boat. {Aloud.) 
Well, not being what you call a seaman, and never having any- 
thing to do with things pertaining to the water, you will have to 
excuse me from answering your question. 

Jim {quickly). Then you are not a sailor ? 

Phil {shaking his head). No, siree, I'm not. The land is 
good enough for me. 

Jim. But still you might have noticed something strange 
about the vessel. 

Phil {thoughtfully). Well, yes, I did, now that I come to 
thmk of it. 

Jim {quickly). What was it ? 

Phil. The steamer was a rakish sort of a craft, lying low in 
the water, and painted a dead black. 

Jim {aside). I'll have to keep an eye on this man. Lands- 
men don't speak of boats in that manner. {Aloud.) And you 
say it was a steamer ? 

Phil {nodding). Yes. 

Jim. How could you tell it was a steamer ? 

Phil. I distinctly remember seeing the smoke issuing from 
the smoke-stack. 

Jim. Was there anything in particular that you took notice 
of? 

Phil. Not that I know of. {Quickly.) Oh, yes, there were 
a number of guns on the deck. 

iim. {aside). I was sure it was the " McAdams." {Aloud.) 
You did not learn what her mission was in coming here ? 

Phil. I heard one man say he guessed the boat had come to 
this place to hunt down the wreckers and smugglers of the coast. 

1 don't know what he meant by such a remark, as I'm a stranger 
in this neighborhood. 

Jim. You'll learn in time if you remain here long enough. 

Phil {aside). And that's just what I'm going to do, my 
friend. {Aloud.) I hardly think I'll be able to travel much 
further to-day. So I might as w^ell remain here for the night 
and enjoy a good rest. 

Jim. You can remain here as long as you like, if you have 
no objections to the people you meet. They are not as refined 
as the city people you are in the habit of meeting, but you'll find 
they are as true as steel. 

Phil. At that rate I remain until morning. {Yawns.) I 
feel pretty well played out. {Looks around.) But tell me w^hat 
object have you in placing that cannon in such a position as 
that ? [Points to it. 



THE WRECKERS DAUGHTER. ^ 

Jim. Merely a whim. ^ 

Phil. I don't understand. 

Jim. That gun was brought from the deck of a ship that was 
wrecked on this coast many years ago. I thought at the time 
it might come in handy for something. At all events, it can be 
sold at any time for old iron. 

Phil. Is it loaded ? 

Jim. Strange as it may seem, it is. Pat — that is my hired 
man — cleaned it out the other day, and then loaded it. 

Phil. And you are sure it's still loaded. 

Jim. Yes, I w^s examining it this morning. It needs but 
the match and it will be discharged. But I am keeping you up, 
besides disturbing your nap. You can go to sleep again, seeing 
you are not going to leave us until morning. I am going for a 
stroll along the coast, and enjoy a quiet pipe. [Exit, door C. 

Phil. I am on the right track at last. I w'as afraid he might 
tumble to the fact that I was not as simple as I seemed. I was 
afraid I had betrayed myself when I described the steamer to 
him, but he seemed not to have noticed it. I am in the lion's 
den, and must look sharp or my friends will never see me again. 
Still, I'd willingly risk all kinds ot danger if I could but once 
more see pretty Essie Bowen. I wonder will I ever meet her 
again ? 

Essie ^\A^x%from c. 

Essie {she is veiled, and she quietly advances and touches 
him on the shoulder). Young man, let me give you fair warn- 
ing. You are doing a very foolish thing in coming here. 

Phil {in a7nazeme7it). What do you mean, young woman ? 
(Aside.) I'd like to see her face. 

Essie (slowly), I mean that you are a spy ! 

Phil (jumping up), A spy ? 

Essie (quietly). Yes, a spy. You are Lieutenant Phil King, 
of the gunboat " McAdams." 

Phil (aside). She knows me, at all events. I'll have to try 
and get out of it the best way I can. (Aloud.) You are 
mistaken, young woman ; I am not the gentleman you just 
named. 

Essie. I am not mistaken, sir. You are Phil King. I was 
in Dover when I saw you put off from the steamer in a small 
boat for the shore. 

Phil (aside). I wish she'd remove that veil. (Aloud.) But 
I was too far away from the town for any one to see me. 

Essie (laughing). Ah, you acknowledge it then. 

Phil (excitedly). Betrayed, and by myself! 

Essie. You see I was right. 

Phil. Where were you all this \ime ? 



8 



THE WRECKER S DAUGHTER. 



Essie. On the shore. 

Phil. But I was too far away from the town for any one to 
see me. 

Essie {qitietly). And yet I saw you. 

Phil. Impossible ! How could you do such a thing ? 

Essie. With the aid of a powerful glass. 

Phil. Then you were expecting me ? {Aside,) I'm not half 
as smart as I thought I was. 

Essie. Not exactly you. I didn't for a moment think it would 
be you w^ho would come. 

Phil {in stir prise). I have never met you before. 

Essie. Yes, you have. And I have also seen you before. 

Phil. You have ? And where ? 

Essie. The most times I have seen you was in looking at 
your picture. 

Phil {in a7nazeme7it). My picture ? Young lady, you surprise 
me. 

Essie {quietly). Do I ? 

Phil. Indeed you do. Where did you ever see a picture of 
me ? Or who ever showed you one ? 

Essie. It was shown to me by your sister Alice, in the con- 
vent where we both went to school. 

Phil {in amazeinent). Then you don't mean to say you are 
Essie Bowmen ? 

Essie {removing veil). I am the same. 

{Both shake hands heartily. 

Phil. I must say I am glad to meet you again, Miss Bowen. 
But still you haven't told me why you were in Dover spying on 
me ? 

Essie {slowly). I was sent there by my father ! 

Phil {in amazement). My God, you don't mean to say that 
your father is the leader of the coast-wreckers and smugglers ? 

Essie {sadly). I am sorry to say he is.. I know the govern- 
ment looks upon him as a criminal, but tome he is the best and 
kindest of parents. 

Phil {aside). What a shame for such a beautiful creature. 
{Aloud.) And now that you know who I am, what are you go- 
ing to do ? 

Essie. Try and save my father. {Aside.) And you also, if 
I possibly can. 

Phil. You are going to try and save your father at my ex- 
pense, no doubt. 

Essie {quietly). And why should I not ? You are nothing 
to me but a stranger. 

Phil {fervently). I wish to Heaven I was more to you than 
a stranger, Miss Bowen ! Say, for instance, a near and dear 
friend. 



THE WRECKER^S DAUGHTER. 9 

Essie {aside). How noble he looks ! {Aloud.) Mr. King, 
you forget yourself. 

Phil {humbly). I humbly beg your pardon, Miss Bowen. 
But then you know Jack is always blunt in whatever he says. 

Essie {coldly). Yes, sometimes he is too blunt. {Walks 
towards door C.) I must be leaving you now, Mr. King. 

Phil {in stcrprise). Where are you going now, Miss Bowen, 
if I may be so bold as to ask ? 

Essie. Home to my father, sir, and warn him to look out for 
government spies. [Exit c. 

Phil {looking after her, and then to audience). Beautiful 
beyond a dream! A man with such a woman for a wife should 
be supremely happy. {Rising,) I'll follow her and see where 
she lives. I must try and cultivate her acquaintance now that 
I have found her. I wonder what would my sister say if she 
knew that my heart was lost to this beautiful girl ? Well, it's 
gone, and I'm not sorry for the loss. [Exit c. 

Pat enters /i^^/;^ l. 

Pat {looking around). The place is empty, an* fer wonder. 
{Goes behind bar.) Oh, why am I so unlucky ? {Drinks glass 
of whisky which he has poured out.) I wish to Heaven I was 
born rich instead of an Irishman, an' thin I could marry the 
girl av me heart. The world is a queer thing entirely. {Leans 
on bar.) Still, ii the girl I love would only show some signs av 
affection fer me, I'd be satisfied. {Sighs.) Oh, wirra, wirra, 
but I'm dyin' fer the want av some wan to love me. If I thought 
that me passion was returned, I'd be the happiest man under 
the sun. 

Lucy enters from c. 

Lucy. Hello, Pat, what's the matter ? Sick ? [Laughs, 

Pat {aside). There is the star of me whole life. {Aloud,) 
Ye know Tm sick, Lucy, darlin', from want av bein' loved. 

Lucy. Is it as bad as that, Pat ? 

Pat. Faith an' it is, an' worse than that. {Looks around,) 
But whisper, darlin*. 

Lucy. Well, Pat ? 

Pat {in a whisper). Would ye marry me if I had a large 
sum av money ? 

Lucy {aside). Now to tease him. {Aloud.) Oh, I don't 
know. 

Pat (^^^'^^). That's just the way it's always. {Aloud.) Will 
ye iver give me a dacent answer ? 

Lucy. Perhaps I might give a man an answer. 

Pat {aside). A man ? She must think I'm a child, begor- 
rah. {Aloud.) Shure ye might as well give me an answer. 



to THE wrecker's DAUGHTER. 

Lucy. I said I might give a man one. 

Pat. Ye might give a man wan ? 

Lucy {no Ming). Yes. 

Pat. Then what in the name of Heaven do ye call me ? 

Lucy {laughing). Oh, you're only an Irishman. 

Pat. Let me tell ye, me girl, that the Irish are the finest race 
av men on earth. 

Lucy {quietly). No doubt, when they are on the police force. 
Of course, some of them are men and gentlemen at that. But 
then, Pat, you don't come from that part of Ireland. 

Pat. Holy mackerel, will ye listen to that ! By jingo, girl, 
let me tell ye that me ancestors were kings and queens av Ire- 
land ! An' what's more, they were gentlemen at that. 

Lucy. Indeed ! And are you a sample of one of the kings 
you descended from ? 

Pat {aside). I'll be crazy in a minute, {Aloud:) Girl, will 
ye iver keep still ? In the name av Heaven keep quiet fer a mo- 
ment while I tell ye how much I love ye. 

Lucy [in surprise). Love me, Pat ? Why, you don't know 
the meaning of the word love. 

Pat. I may not know the meaning av the word, but by St. 
Patrick I know the feeling av it all the same. 

Lucy. I don't think I could ever learn to love you, Pat. 

Pat. An' why not 1 

Lucy. Well, in the first place, the man I love must be a 
sailor. He must be a rover of the deep. Of course, I know you 
don't like the water. 

Pat {aside). I does love the sea, I don't think. {Aloud.) If 
ye promise to love me, I'll go to sea in a minute. I know it 
will nearly kill me, but I'll do it for your sake. 

Lucy. Very well, then, I'll marry you when you become an 
able seaman. You must also try and use expressions used by 
all sailors. 

Pat. Hoistin' derricks ! but I'll be a second Kidd ! 

Lucy {aside). I'll have to get out of here or die of suppressed 
laughter. {Aloud.) Very well, then, when you are a man of 
the sea, you can come and claim me as your bride. 

Pat. Rip me trousers, but I'll commence this very minute. 
I'll go out with the boys this very day. I know it will almost 
kill me, but dash my sky-scrapers, I'll do it for your sake. 
How do ye think I'm progressin' 1 

Lucy {aside). I'll die, I know I shall. {Aloud.) Splendidly. 
You'll be a sailor in no time. I'm sure I wish you all the luck 
in the world, Pat. [Exit C. 

Pat. An' sink the rudder but so do I. {Thoughtfully.) 
Sink the rudder ! What the devil part av the ship is that ? 
She said for me to use them, an' I'm goin' to whether they are 



THE WRECKERS DAUGHTER, II 

right or wrong. Bust me suspenders, but whin I get through 
learnin* to be a sailor I'll be a fit subject fer an undertaker. 
{^He gives his pants a tug, sailor fashion,) But 111 do it for 
the girl av me heart. 

Jim enters from c. 

Jim {looking around). Any signs of strangers being around 
here, Pat ? \Sits L. of table. 

Pat. Shiver me fetlock, sur, but I haven't clapped me peers 
on any stranger to-day. 

Jim {looks at hiin in a^nazement). What's the matter with 
you, Pat ? Are you going crazy ? 

Pat. No, sir, I'm not. But I'd like to ask a favor av ye, 
Misther Douglass. 

Jim. Well, Pat ? 

Pat. I want to be off fer the afternoon. 

Jim. And why do you want leave of absence for this after- 
noon, Pat ? 

Pat. Because I want to go out with the men an' learn to be 
an old sea-dog like the rest av thim. 

Jim {in surprise). A sailor, Pat ? Why, you know the 
sight of the sea makes you as sick as a dog, and to go sailing 
on it will simply kill you. 

Pat. Thrue fer ye, sur. But Lucy promised to marry me 
on the day I am a full-fledged sailor, an* grape-shot an' fried 
eyes but I mean to win. 

Jim {aside). Heavens, what expressions ! {Aloud.) Pat, 
that girl will be the death of you yet. Still you may go, if it 
will help you any. 

Pat {nodding). Thank you, sur. I'll soon be a sailor fer yer 
life. [Exit L. with a swagger. 

Jim {solus). I wonder what became of the stranger who was 
here a while ago. I suppose he has recovered sufficiently to go 
for a stroll along the coast. Somehow or other I don't seem to 
like the looks of him. He might not be a spy after all. Still, it 
won't do any harm to keep an eye on him. 

Bill enters /r^^/^ c. 

Bill (^^^^^^^ lo Jim a^id sits '^. of table). Any sign of the 
spy from the " McAdams " yet, Jim ? 

Jim. Not yet. I think we must have been mistaken, the 
both of us. 

Bill. I hope so. Still, the information I received can be re- 
lied upon. {Looks around.) Has any stranger come to this 
place to-day ? 

Jim. Yes, one. 



12 THE WRECKER^S DAUGHTER. 

Bill. What did he look like ? 

Jim. Oh, he was a young fellow of thirty or so. Looked 
very much like a tramp. Said he had travelled a long way and 
w^ould stay here for the night. 

Bill. Where is he now ? 

Jim. Somewhere about the house. 

Bill. Perhaps he is the spy after all in disguise. 

Jim. I hardly think so. Still, the best thing we can do is to 
keep a strict watch on him while he's here. 

Bill. That's about all we can do. In case he is the spy we 
are expecting, he must never leave this place alive ! 

Jim. On his death depends our safety. 

Bill. You're right there, Jim. 

Jim. Have you ordered the boys out for to-night ? It's 
going to be dark and stormy, and who knows but some ship 
might run afoul of the rocks on the coast, and be dashed to 
pieces. 

Bill. I don't know what to do, Jim. Since my daughter has 
grown up, I have wanted more than once to quit the life I've 
been leading for her sake. I don't w^ant to have her hold down 
her head in shame for the sins of her father. 

Jim. But she is not your daughter, Bill. So what need you 
care ? 

Bill. But I do care, Jim. I am the only father she has ever 
known. I don't want to bring a blush to her pretty cheek. 

Jim. Then you have never told her you are not her real 
father ? 

Bill. Of what good would that be ? No one know\s who her 
parents were. So what good would it be in revealing to her the 
fact that she is not my child, simply a waif from the sea ? 

Jim. You take a great interest in her. Bill. 

Bill. And why shouldn't I ? I have tried to make a lady out 
of her, by giving her a good education, and allowing her all the 
advantages shared by girls of wealthy parents. 

Jim. And do you think that she has never suspected the 
truth of you not being her father ? 

Bill. Never ! And God knows it w^ould kill me if she was 
to leave me now ! 

Jim. Strange how we were never able to learn who and 
what her parents were. You still have the clothes -she w^ore, 
the night you took her from the arms of the dead woman ? 

Bill. I have. And sometimes I think that Essie was the 
child of rich parents. Strange how no one ever made any in- 
quiry about her. I have often thought that her parents were on 
the doomed ship, and that both perished that night in the sea. 
I took the little waif home with me and raised her as my own 
child. She was too young at the time to know any different. 



THE WRECKERS DAUGHTER. 1 3 

And now that I have made money enough I am going to quit 
the business for the sake of Essie. 

Jim. Then you won't go out to-night ? 

Bill. If I do it will be for the last time. 

Jim. And why for the last time ? 

Bill. Because Essie is old enough to know right from 
wrong. 

Jim. That's true enough. Still, if some relation of the girl's 
was to discover her and claim her, what would you do ? 

Bill. Let her choose between us. I would not place any ob- 
stacle in her way. If she went with her friends, well and good. 
If she chose to cast her lot with me I would try and make her as 
happy as I possibly could. {Ferv eiitly .) Still, I hope such a 
thing will never happen. 

Jim. And so do I. 

Bill {looking around). Hush ! here comes a stranger. 

[Ned e7iters from C. 

Ned {coining down to table). Good-day, gentlemen ! 

Jim {gruffly)' Good-day, sir. [Bill siinply nods. 

Ned. Which of you two gentlemen happens to be Captain Bill 
Bo wen ? 

Bill {quietly). That's my name, stranger. What can I do for 
you ? 

Ned. Perhaps a great deal, and perhaps nothing. It all de- 
pends on you, sir. 

Bill. You speak strangely, sir. 

Ned {looks at Jim and then a/ Bill). Can this gentleman be 
depended upon to keep silent ? 

Bill {nodding). He can. 

Jim {risifig). Perhaps I'd better leave you two alone for 
a while. Two is company you know and three is not. I'll be 
within call. Bill, if you should want me for anything. [Exit L. 

Bill {nods). All right, Jim. 

Ned {sits down). Now% then, to business. 

Bill. I'm all attention, sir. 

Ned. Something like eighteen years ago a vessel called the 
" Starlight " was wrecked on this coast, and all on board perished. 
It was said at the.time that the ship w^as lured to its doom by 
means of false lights placed on the shore. 

Bill. It's a lie ! There were no wreckers on the coast at the 
time of the accident. The rudder of the boat was disabled and 
the ship could not be controlled. Being in such a condition it 
was an easy thing for the wind and waves to drive the vessel on 
the rocks where she finally went to pieces. 

Ned. And did all of them perish ? 

Bill. All but one. 

Ned {quietly). Then I am on the right track at last. 



14 THE wrecker's DAUGHTER. 

Bill {in surprise). Right track at last ? What do you mean, 
sir ? (^Savagely.) Are you a spy ? 

Ned {in surprise). A spy ? No. 

Bill. Then what are you ? 

Ned. I am a detective. 

Bill {in ainazement). A detective ? Then die, you cursed 
spy ! \Draws revolver from his pocket and covers him 

with it. 

Ned {quietly). Hold on, old man. Don't be in such a hurry. 
I'm no government detective. Simply a private one. What 
crimes you have committed have got nothing to do with me. 
(Bill returns revolver to his pocket.) I am looking for infor- 
mation concerning one who has been supposed to be dead for 
y^ars. The one I have reference to was on the ship at the time 
it was wrecked. 

Bill. Pardon me, sir, for being so hasty with my gun. But 
the fact is we look upon all strangers as spies, and upon de- 
tectives in particular as our mortal enemies. But I am inter- 
rupting you. Continue with your story. 

Ned. On board of the boat at the time of the wreck was the 
owner of the vessel, his wife and infant child. The parents 
were both drowned, but the child was saved. 

Bill. How do you know the child was saved ? 

Ned. That is easily answered. An old man, who had 
formerly lived here, died the other day in an hospital in New 
York. Before he breathed his last he asked to see a lawyer. I 
happened to be in the lawyer's office when the nurse from the 
hospital came for him. I accompanied the lawyer to the bed- 
side of the dying man, and judge of my amazement when I heard 
the sailor tell how the child had been saved and reared as 
your own ; for I have been on the track of this child for 
ten years. It's to find out the truth of this story I am here 
to-day. 

Bill. The man told you nothing but the truth. {Quickly:) 
But who sent you here ? 

Ned. Her uncle. The child is the heiress of a large estate. 
If you have any proof, the girl can claim the fortune that right- 
fully belongs to her. 

Bill. I have the necessary amount of proof. I am glad the 
girl is going to turn out to be somebody after all. 

Ned. And where have you the proof you speak of ? 

Bill. At my home. If you will call there this evening, I 
will show it to you. 

Ned {rising). Very well, I'll be there without fail. [Exit c. 

Bill {thoughtfully). So, after all, Essie is going to become 
a great lady, instead of the simple little waif of the sea. Well, 
I'll be sorry to lose her, but I suppose it's all for the best. She 



THE WRECKERS DAUGHTER. 1 5 

can't say that I haven't been a good father to her and treated 
her the same as if she was my own child. 

Pat enters from c. 

Pat (^^ is very white aftd staggers). Oh, bust me shoes 
but I'm a sick man ! {He falls into a chair R. of table.) Oh, 
me stomach ! \^Groa7is. 

Bill (looks at hifu in surprise). What's the matter, Pat ? 
Are you sick ? [Laughs, 

Pat. Sick ? {Groans.) Shure, I'm dyin' by inches. 

Bill. Oh, brace up and be a man. 

Pat. I can't, sir. {Groans and holds his hands over his 
stomach.) I'll never be a man again. I'll be an angel before 
long though. \Groa7is. 

Bill. You'll be all right before long. Eat a piece of nice fat 
pork, and you'll feel much better. 

Pat. Sufferin' Heaven ! fat pork ! Oh ! 

\Gulps and places hand over mouth, 

Jim enters /r^^ l. 

Jim. What ails the Irishman, Bill ? 

Bill. Too much of the sea, I guess. I'm just advising him 
to try and eat some pork, but he says he'd rather not. 

Pat {groaning). Oh, Lord, I'm dyin', I know I am. 

Jim {slapping him on the back). Brace up and be a man, 
can't you ? 

Pat. Oh ! \Groa7is loudly. 

Phil exAiexsfrom c. 

Phil {he is smoking a cigar). What's the matter with him ? 
Jim. Sea-sick. [Bill is closely watching Phil. 

Phil. This will help him. 

[Hands Jim a small whisky-flask. In so doing his 
coat ope7is, revealing a sailor's jacket beneath. 
Bill {jumping up and drawing revolver). The man is a 
spy from the " McAdams " ! Kill him, Jim ! 

Phil. Stand back, gentlemen ! {Runs to cannon and holds 
lighted end of cigar over the breech.) Don't advance a step or 
I'll fire the gun. 

[Bill and Jim standi., and k. of table, watching him, 
Pat has fallen to the floor, where he lies groaning. 

SLOW CURTAIN. 



1 6 THE wrecker's daughter. 



ACT II. 

Scene. — A plain room; doors R., \.. and L. c. Window R. C. 
to open ; between the door and window i7t flat is a cup- 
board with dishes 07i the shelves ; down L. is a table with 
two chairs j on the table is a lighted lamp a7td the reinains 
of a supper ; dow7t R. is a fireplace with fire ; before it is 
a rocki7ig-chair ; beneath wi7idow is a S7nall table ; lights 
full up as curtai7i rises. Capt. Bowen is seated at table 
lighti7ig pipe, while EssiE is seated before fire in rocki7ig- 
chair. 

Bill. Clear up the dishes, Essie, and have things in their 
proper place, for I expect a visitor to-night. 

Essie {rising). A visitor, father } 

Bill. Yes, child. 

Essie. Who is it, father ? 

[She re7noves dishes and places the7n in cupboard, 
after which she resumes her seat. 

Bill. A stranger I met down at Jim's place this afternoon. 

Essie {aside). A stranger ? Can it be Mr. King ? 

Bill. He promised to come here to-night as he has some im- 
portant business to transact with me. 

Essie. Perhaps he may be a government spy ? 

Bill. Don't let such a thought worry your brain, child. TU 
stake my life on the man being all right. We did run against 
a spy this afternoon, but he held us at bay with an empty can- 
non we thought loaded, and then escaped. 

Essie {aside). Thank God, he escaped ! 

Bill. But why are you so afraid of all strangers being gov- 
ernment spies in disguise 1 

Essie. Because I am so afraid of your being arrested and 
put in prison. What w^ould then become of me ? {She crosses 
to hi77t and kneels by his knees.) You know I have no one in 
all the world to turn to but you. 

Bill {stroking her hair). Would you then care, child, if 
anything was to happen to me ? 

Essie {sadly). Oh, father, you know I would. 

Bill. But, suppose I was to tell you, Essie — remember I say 
suppose — that you w^ere not my child ; that you wxre the 
daughter of wealthy people — would you care much ? 

Essie {in a7naze77tent). Why, father, how strange you talk. 
Are you ill 1 

Bill {sadly). Yes, child, I am. I am sick at the thought of 
losing you, the only bright spot in my whole life. 



THE WRECKERS DAUGHTER. 1 7 

Essie {i^^ amazement). Why, father, what do you mean ? 

Bill {slowly), Essie, you are not my daughter ! 

Yi^SlQ {slowly). Not your daughter ? {Wildly.) Then who 
am I ? 

Bill {shaking his head). That is more than I can tell. But 
I hope to be able to find out before long. You are the only 
survivor of a wreck that occurred on this coast many years ago. 
1 brought you up as my own child and gave you all the advan- 
tages of a good education. 

Essie {kissing him affectionately). And I love you just as 
much as if you were my own father. And what's more, 1 mean 
never to leave you. 

Bill {gratefully). Thank you, child, but I fear it's impos- 
sible. {Sadly.) Your uncle has sent a detective in search of 
you, and, when found, you are to go to him. You are the 
heiress of a great estate, as well as entitled to a good and hon- 
orable name. 

Essie {quietly). And where are my parents, sir ? 

Bill {sadly). They are both dead, Essie. They were 
drowned the night the ship was dashed to pieces on the rocks. 
Your father was the owner of the vessel. 

Essie (quietly). And this strange man who is coming here 
to-night has something to do with all this ? 

Bill {nodding). He has. Your uncle has hired him to find 
some clue to your whereabouts, if he possibly could. 

Essie. And he has succeeded in finding me ? 

Bill. I am sorry to say that he has. 

Essie. Then don't see him again. (Throwing her arms 
around his neck.) 1 don't want to leave you ! You have been 
the best of parents to me. 

Bill. Thank you, child, but I fear we will have to part. 

Essie (wildly). Never, sir. Unless you drive me away 
yourself, all the wealth of the world can never separate us, 
not even if my own father was alive and asked me to do it. 
{Rising ancTkissing him.) I love you too much to ever leave 
you now. [Exit R. 

Bill (looks after her a7td then to audience). Noble girl ! 
Well might any father be proud of such a daughter ! Come 
what will, I will never place any obstacle in her way of choosing 
between her uncle and myself. (Sadly.) And, though God 
knows it will almost break my heart to let her go, I will do so 
if she wishes it. (A knock is heard at L. c.) Come in. 

Ned enters /r^?^ l. c. 

Ned (nods and coines down to table). Good-evening, sir. 

\Removes hat ayid coat, and then sits down at table. 
Bill {noddiiig). Good-evening, sir. I see you are prompt. 
2 



1 8 THE wrecker's DAUGHTER. 

Ned. I might have been here sooner, but it's such a terrible 
night out. {A peal of thunder is faintly heard.) I pity the 
vessel out at sea to-night. 

Bill. You may well say so. A light falsely placed on the 
shore to-night would wreck the best ship afloat. {A loud peal 
of thunder is heard.) And yet it was on such anight as this 
that the " Starlight " was wrecked. 

Ned. I hope no such fate will happen to any vessel to-night. 

Bill. Who can tell ? [A flash of lightning is seen, followed 

by a loud clap of thunder. 

Ned. I hope the rain will keep off until I can get back to 
where I am staying. 

Bill. Have no fear, stranger, we won't have rain for some 
time yet ; so don't let that worry you. 

Ned. You may be right, but the sooner we get to business, 
and the sooner we get through with it, the better I'll like it. 

Bill. Very good, sir. [Thunder and lightning. 

Ned. Now, sir, what reward do you want for the informa- 
tion you are going to give concerning the girl ? 

Bill {in surprise). Reward ? 

Ned {nodding). Exactly. 

Bill. I want no reward, sir. What information I give, I give 
willingly and for the sake of my adopted daughter. I want no 
reward for but doing my duty. 

Ned. Allow me to grasp your hand, sir. {Shakes haftds 
with Bill.) You are an honest man, Mr. Bowen. 

Bill {quietly). No, sir, I am sorry to say I am not an honest 
man. But where my child is concerned I am going to try and 
do all in my power to help her. 

Ned {aside). Mighty candid at all events. {Aloud.) Then 
the sooner we get down to business the better. [Thunder only. 

Bill. That suits me. I wish to get it off my hands as soon 
as possible. 

Ned. On the child's neck at the time the ship was wrecked 
was a gold chain and locket. In the locket were the pictures of 
the infant's parents. Am I right ? 

Bill. So far, yes. 

Ned. On the clothes worn by the child was the name " Essie," 
worked into the cloth in red silk. Again am I right 1 

Bill {7toddi?tg). I am sorry to say you are. 

Ned {in surprise). Why sorry ? 

Bill. Because my child is the one you are in search of. 

Ned. I am glad to hear that. Still, there may be some mis- 
take yet. I haven't examined the proof yet. 

Bill (rising). You can do so in a minute. {Goes to cupboard 
and returns to table with small bundle, which he opens.) These 
are the garments worn by the child. Here is the chain and 



THE WRECKERS DAUGHTER. I9 

locket. (Ned takes chain and opens locket. He then hands it 
back to Bill.) Are you satisfied now } 

S^He returns bundle to cupboard again and 
comes down to table. 
Ned {rising), I am more than satisfied. I will be around 
in the morning and have a talk with the young lady herself. 
Bill. Very well, sir, [Thunder and lightning. 

Ned. I'd be much obliged if you'd accompany me part of the 
way in the dark. [Puts hat an. 

Bill. Certainly, sir. (Places hat on.) Come on, sir. 

[Exeunt l. c. 
Essie enters /^^^/^ R. 

Essie [sits at table). Only to think that this kindly old man 
is not my father after all is enough to make me sad indeed. 
(Passionately.) But I love him just as dearly as if he was, and 
will always continue to do so. And how am I going to show 
my gratitude to him for all the favors he has bestowed on me ? 
By leaving him to die alone in his old age, of a broken heart ? 
All the wealth of the world placed at my feet could not force me 
to leave him. (The face of Phil appears at window, R. C.) I 
love him too much. 

Phil enters cautiously from l. c. 

Phil (looks around room and then advances to table). Do I 
intrude here. Miss Bowen ? 

Essie (fit sound of his voice she turns in surprise). You 
here, Phil ? (In confusion.) I mean, Mr. King. 

Phil. As you see. By the way, you may call me Phil. It's 
my name and I'm not ashamed of it. 

\ Crosses to fireplace and stands with back to fire. 

Essie. You do a very foolish thing in coming here to-night 
after what happened this afternoon. 

Phil. But no one knows I am here to-night but you. I waited 
outside until I saw your father and the stranger start off down 
the road. I then determined to pay you a friendly visit. 

Essie. But, Mr. King, look at the danger you run. If it was 
ever found out you were here, no power on earth could save you. 
You would be killed, and your body would never be found. 

Phil. Would you then care if I was to be dispatched in such 
a terrible hurry ? 

Essie. You know I would. (Quickly.) That is, for the sake 
of your mother and sister. 

^\!CiS. (aside). She betrayed herself that time. (Aloud.) And 
for no other reason than that of my mother and sister ? 

Essie (aside). I wonder did he notice my confusion 1 (Aloud,) 
What do you mean, Mr. King ? 



20 THE WRECKER S DAUGHTEl^. 

Phil {quietly). Nothing just now. At some future time I 
will tell you everything-. 

Essie. You speak very strangely, sir. What do you mean ? 

Phil. You want me to make my meaning clear to you ? Very 
well, I will do so. Miss Bowen, you will pardon me when I say 
I love you. 

Essie [aside). Oh, my heart. {Aloud.) Sir ! 

[Rising, stands C. 

Phil {crossing to her). True, we have met before, yet we are 
almost strangers to each other. But, Essie, I have loved you since 
the first time I met you. This may seem strange to you, still it's 
only the truth. For a time this afternoon I failed to recognize 
you, simply because you had grown more beautiful. 

Essie {holding down her head). Oh, sir, you flatter me. 

Phil {sadly). Then you don't care for me, Essie ? 

Essie {quickly). Oh, sir, you mistake me. I respect and 
honor you very much. But you know what my father is. It 
would never do for me to have my name linked with such an 
honorable one as yours. 

Phil. Nonsense ! I want you to remember what I have said 
to-night, and perhaps in time you will come to look upon me as 
more than a friend. 

Essie {sincerely). I sincerely trust I shall. 

[A noise is heard outside of door. 

Phil. What is that 1 [Both listen ; a knock is heard 

at door L. c. 

Essie {in a whisper). Some one is at the door. Oh, what 
shall 1 do ? It would never do for you to be found here. Come 
with me and I will hide you. Lucy can .attend to the door. 

[The knock is repeated as both exeunt R. 

Pat enters /^^^^2 l. c. 

Pat {entering and looking around). Shure a man could stand 
out all night here knocking an' no wan would pay the slightest 
attention to him. {Stands before fire warming hi^nself.) 
Murther, but it's a wild night out. {Looks aroujtd agai^i.) Shure 
the room is empty enough now, but I'd a swore I heard some 
wan whisperin' in here while I was standin' outside the dure. 
{Looks around.) I wonder where Lucy is ? Begorra, there's 
going to be no more sailin' for me, an' that's flat. {Shaking his 
head.) Woman or no woman, I'll keep off the water. Shure I 
never did like water nohow, an' now I hate it worse than ever. 

Lucy enters /r^/// R. 

Lucy {in surprise). Oh, you're here, are you ? 

^She crosses and leans on the back of rocking- 
chair facing hi77t. 



THE wrecker's DAUGHTER. 21 



Pat {nodding). ShureJ am. {Looking over himself.') That 
is, what's left av me. 

Lucy {scornfully). You are a nice sailor, you are. Aren't you 
ashamed of yourself ? The idea of a strong man like you get- 
ting sick at the sight of a little water. 

Pat. That's just it, me girl, there was just a little too much 
water to suit me, or rather me stomach. 

Lucy {ster7ily). Pat Murphy, when I marry, I am going to 
marry a man and not a milksop. 

Pat {aside). I wonder does she mean that, or is it only a bluff 
she's throwin' at me ? {Aloud.) Well, 'pon me wurd, it's much 
better to marry a milksop than an Irish corpse. 

Lucy {in surprise). What do you mean, sir ? 

Pat. That another trip on the water for your sake, an' I'll be 
wearin' wings of white up yonder. \Poinls to sky. 

Lucy {with scor7i). I always thought the Irish had more 
courage than what you showed. 

Pat. They have, acushla, but shure their courage don't 
run towards the water. 

Lucy. I suppose not. 

Pat [warmly). Faith an' I say yes. Shure my ambition 1s 
to be an alderman. 

Lucy. Oh, you do, do you .^ {Scornfully.) Well, you'd 
make a nice looking alderman you would, I must say. A man 
who is afraid of the sight of water. 

Pat. Did ye ever know the politician that was not only 
afraid of the sight of water, but also the taste of it ? 

Lucy {aside). He's telling the truth now and no mistake. 
{Aloud.) Nonsense ! 

Pat. It's a fact all the same. But leavin' all subjects 
aside, Lucy. I love the ground ye walk on — if it's not near the 
water. 

Lucy {decidedly). Hereafter, Pat Murphy, you and I are total 
strangers to each other. Do you understand me, sir — total 
strangers ? 

Pat. Well, seein' I'm not deaf, of course I must naturally 
hear you. Of course seein' there's no welcome for me in this 
house I might as well be goin'. \Walks towards door. 

Lucy {in surprise). Where are you going, Pat ? 

\Looks at him, 
"^ Pat {quietly). Only down to Johnson's. 

TiUCy {ster7ily). Pat Murphy, what are you going to do 
down there ? 

Pat {aside). Now is me time. I have her just where I want 
her. {Aloud.) I am goin' down an' see pretty little Nellie, 
the ould man's youngest daughter. Shure she'd marry me in a 
minute if I asked her, whether I was a sailor or not. 



22 THE wrecker's DAUGHTER. 

Lucy. Oh, indeed ! No doubt you think she is a charming 
girl ? (^Aside.) I'd like to scratch her eyes out. 

Pat. You may well say that. 

Lucy. But just the same, Pat, I think I'll go down there with 
you and see that you don't make a fool of yourself. 

Pat. Thank you, but I think I can find the way meself. 

Lucy. No doubt. But just the same I'm going with you. 
You wait here until I get my hat and cloak, and then we'll start 
for Johnson's. [Exit R. 

Pat [opening door). Now is me time to get away. I'll give 
her the slip and make her as jealous as the devil. 

[Exit L. c. quickly, 

Lucy {re-entering with hat and cloak on). Here I am all 
ready. {Looks aroufid.) Pat, where are you ? {Quickly.) 
He has gone. Well, I know the way as well as he does, and 
I'll follow him, and keep an eye on him and also Johnson's 
daughter. [Exit l. c. in a hurry, 

Essie enters /r^^^^ R. 

Essie {looking around). Strange what became of Mr. King ! 
I only left him in the other room for a minute, and when I re- 
turned he was gone. I sincerely hope he will keep out of dan- 
ger. Oh, how I wish father would give up this life he is leading 
and move far away from here. If it wasn't for Jim Douglass 
he would have done so long ago. But then the man seems to 
be the evil star of my father's life. Oh, how I hate and mis- 
trust that man ! {Quickly.) But this ain't finding Mr. King. 

[ExitL. 
Bill enters /^^w l. c. 

Bill {looking around). No sign of Essie around. Well, I 
suppose the poor child is tired and has gone to rest. {Sits at 
table.) It's a bad night out, and I don't blame the stranger for 
wanting to reach his lodgings as soon as possible. It was on 
such a night as this that the " Starlight " was dashed to pieces on 
the rocks ! It seems as if it only happened last night. And yet 
Essie is now a full-grown woman. How time passes ! 

Jim enters /^^^^^ l. c. 

Jim {crosses and stands with back to fire). It is a very bad 
night out. Bill, and just the kind when the ships miss their way 
in the storm and run afoul of the hidden rocks on the coast. 

Bill {noddi7ig). You may well say so, Jim. 

Jim. The boys are down on the shore waiting for you to 
give the order before lighting the fires. 

Bill {quietly). Jim, I have resolved to give up this life al- 
together. 



THE wrecker's DAUGHTER. 2^ 

Jim (aside). It will never do for me to let him escape from 
my clutch now. (Aloud.) But still y^'' won't go back on the 
boys to-night will you ? You'll go uown and see them, Bill. 
You know they are not all so well fixed as you and I. And the 
smallest thing comes in handy to them. 

Bill. Yes, I know. (Slowly aiid hesitatingly.) Still, I hate 
to do it. Since this afternoon, when I saw that infernal spy 
from the "McAdams," I feel what a terrible danger we are in. 
(Sadly.) If anything should happen to me what would become 
of my darling child, Essie .^ 

Jim (aside). This will never do. (Aloud.) But nothing 
will happen, Bill. You are getting nervous, old man. That is 
all that ails you. 

Bill. I'm not a bit nervous. I simply want to give up the 
life I am leading, and try if I possibly can and be somebody. 

Jim (aside). I'll have to make another move. (Aloud.) 
Look here, Bill Bowen, you are not going to turn traitor are 
you ? 

Bill (sternly), Jim Douglass, if any other man but you 
dared to ask me such a question, I'd knock him down. 

Jim (aside). That woke him up. (Aloud.) Then why are 
you so obstinate ? 

Bill. Because since my child has grown up I want to go 
far away from here, among strangers who know us not. I 
don't want every finger pointed at her with scorn as the daugh- 
ter of Bill Bowen, the wrecker ! 

Jim. But it will be for the last time. After to-night, no 
other ship shall ever be wrecked on this coast by means of 
false lights. The boys are all going to lead different lives, I 
promise you. 

Bill. Man, don't tempt me. 

Jim (in surprise). Tempt! What if I were to go to the 
boys and tell them that the captain had grown cowardly of late, 
what do you think they'd say ? 

Bill {jumping up). I'd say it was a lie, Jim Douglass, and 
so would they ! I am no coward, and you know it. 

Jim. Then you will go ? 

Bill. Yes, I will go ; but come what will, it will be for the 
last time. After to-night I am going to lead a better life for 
the rest of my days. 

Jim. Good ! You will find the boys waiting for you on the 
*' Devil's Rock," with the fires all ready to light. 

Bill {placing hat on). Very well. But remember it's for 
the last time, Jim Douglass ! 

Jim. Very well, it's for the last time. 

Bill. Are you coming with me ? 

Jim. I'll be with you in a minute. 



24 THE WRECKERS DAUGHTER. 

Bill. All right, you know where to find me. [Exit I- C. 

Jim {savagely). Yes, Bill Bowen, it will be for the last time. 
Once those fires are lighted, and the sailors arrive from the 
'« McAdams," and you and the rest of them will be prisoners in 
the hands of the government. Who can say it was Jim Doug- 
lass that betrayed them ? No one. Once Bill is captured and 
my way is clear to win Essie and her fortune. Once I have the 
money, and who can say aught against the character of Jim 
Douglass, the wrecker t 

Essie enters /^^^^^ R. 

Essie {seeing Iwi ; in surprise). You here, Mr. Douglass? 

Jim {bowi7ig). As you see, Essie. 

Essie {looking around). Where is my father ? [Aside.) I 
'don't like to be here alone with this man ! {Aloud.) Is there 
anything I can do for you ? {Aside.) 1 do wish my father or 
Phil was here. 

Jim. No, there is not. But there is something I wish to 
say to you. {Looks around.) Now that we are alone I can tell 
it to you without being interrupted. To-night is perhaps the 
only chance I'll ever have to speak. 

Essie {aside). I wonder what he means ? [Aloicd.) Very 
well, sir, speak up. 

Jim. Essie, I am not an old man, although I have known 
you tor a long time. I have watched you day by day grow 
from a girl into a very beautiful woman. And, in that time I 
have grown to love you very dearly. And, Essie, I want you to 
be my wife. 

Essie {in amazeniejit). Your wife, sir ? Impossible ! 

Jim {in surprised). Impossible ! And why .^ {Quickly.) 
Ah, I see. You then love another ? 

Essie {coldly). You have no right to ask me such a question. 

Jim. But it's true, nevertheless. But let me tell you this 
much, Essie Bowen, you will never marry any man but me. I 
have sworn it and I will keep my vow. 

Essie {indignanlly). W^ould you dare to insult me, sir ? I 
will call my father, and he will settle with you for his insulting 
language. 

Jim {sneering). Your father ! And what is your father ? A 
wrecker, and a man with a rope around his neck. 

Essie. At all events, he is a gentleman who never insulted a 
defenseless woman, and that is more than you are, Jim Douglass ! 

Zvav {aside). Heavens ! how grand. {Aloud.) Listen to me, 
Essie. Be my wife, and I will give you wealth, jewels, a fine 
home, and all the pleasures of this life that wealth can buy. 

Essie {firmly). Never ! I wouldn't wed you if you were the 
last man on earth. And now you have my final answer ! 



THE WRECKERS DAUGHTER. 25 

Jim. Do you really mean it ? 

Essie. I do. 

Jim. So be it. I know you dearly love the man you call your 
father. {Savagely.) And, by God ! through him I will yet 
reach your heart ! 

Essie {i^ alarm). What do you mean ? 

Jim. Never mind now. You'll see in time. And then you 
will be glad to come and beg of me to try and save his life. 

Essie {in amazement). Do you mean that you would betray 
him ? 

Jim. Yes, if by so doing I could win your love. You can 
now see the depth of my love for you. 

Essie {scornfully). And do you think I could ever learn to 
love the man who would betray my father ? Jim Douglass, you 
are nothing but a coward. And when my father returns I will 
tell him all. 

Jim. You will never do that. He will hardly return to this 
house for some time* if ever. He is now with the wreckers on 
the coast, lighting the fires so as to decoy the first ship that 
happens to see the false light to its doom on the rocks of the 
" Devil's Gap." 

Essie. I will send for him. 

Jim. Listen to me a moment. Give me the promise I ask, and 
I -will save him yet. I will go to him and drag him away from 
his companions, so that he will escape. What is your answer ? 

Essie. Never, sir. 

Jim. Remember on it depends your father's safety. 

Essie. I do not believe you. I will go to my father and warn 
him against you. 

Jim {going to window and looking out). It is too late ! 
{Points out.) See ! The fire is already lighted on the shore ! 
{Lightning.) And, yes, there are the lights of a vessel, and she 
is driving straight for the shore. She will be dashed to pieces 
on the rocks, with all on board ! 

Essie. I will save the boat and my father from committing 
a crime as well. {Looks out,) She is still a long distance from 
the rocks and can be saved. 

Zvsxa {in amazonenf). You save the boat? Simply impos- 
sible, my dear. {Returns to fire,) No power on earth can 
save the boat ! 

Essie {still looking out window^. I say it can. A lamp 
placed in this window, if seen by those on board, will guide the 
vessel safely through the hidden reefs. 

Jim {in surprise). And do you mean to say you would do 
such a thing ? 

Essie. It's to save my father and all on board. 

\She goes to table and takes up lamp. 



26 THE wrecker's DAUGHTER. 

Jim [savagely). Girl, you shall not ! \Cro5ses to her. 

Essie ideterininedly). And I say I shall ! 

\^Goes to the wiftdow with lamp, 
Jim {following her). Never ! 

Essie {placi7ig la?np on table). Indeed ! And who is going 
to prevent me, Jim Douglass ? 

Jim {savagely). I will ! \^He tries to take hold of the lamp. 

Phil enters /r^^^ l. 

Phil {quietly). 1 guess not, old man. {Points revolver at 
him.) Move a step, James, and I'll send a chunk of lead 
through your body ! Essie, keep the lamp in the window ! 

Essie {looking out). The ship is safe ! {Lightning.) The 
light from the lamp has been seen ! {Stands looking out of the 
window.) Father, you are saved ! 

[Phil keeps the revolver pointed at Jim, who stands with 
a look of hatred on his face watching him, 

SLOW CURTAIN. 



ACT III. 

Scene. — Same as Act II. ; Bill and Ned seated at table as 

curtain rises. 

Bill. Then you are satisfied that my adopted daughter 
Essie is the missing heiress you are in search of? Might there 
not be some mistake ? You know such things have occurred 
before. 

Ned. I know. But there is no mistake this time. I only 
wash there was for your sake. 

Bill. You are positive ? 

Ned {bowijig). I am. 

Bill. Then at that rate I suppose I will have to give her up ? 
{Sadly.) It's hard, after raising her from an infant, to have to 
let her go when grown to womanhood ! 

Ned {cheerfully). Oh, I don't think it's as bad as all that. 
It's not necessary that she should leave you. I have written to 
her uncle and explained the matter to him. And the answer 
he sent back was, that as the girl was of age, she could go with 
whichever one she wished. So there you are. If the young 
lady wishes to remain with you, there is nothing to prevent her 
from doing so. 

Bill. But by remaining with me would she be in any way 



THE wrecker's DAUGHTER. 27 

deprived of the fortune that rightfully belongs to her ? Upon 
your answer depends her future. 

Ned. Not at all. What belongs to her belongs to her only, 
and no one else can claim it. 

Bill. I am glad to hear you say that. {Quickly.) Not that 
I want any of her money. But I don't want to place any obstacle 
in her way in obtaining it. 

Ned. Mr. Brown, you speak like an honest man. Please 
call the young woman and we'll lay the case before her. If she 
chooses to lemain with you, then my work is done and 1 will 
depart. I don't think I can get away from this locality any too 
soon. 

Bill. Very well, sir. I'll call her, and she can make her own 
selection between her uncle and myself. {Calls,) Essie ! 

Essie enteis/rom r. 

-^ 

Essie. Well, father ? 

Bill {points to chair). Sit down, child. {Points to Ned.) 
This man has something to say to you. 

Essie {bowing and sitting dowfi). Very well, sir. I'm all 
attention. 

Bill {to Ned). Go ahead, stranger, and tell her the whole 
thing. The sooner we get the matter off of our hands the better. 

Ned. I'll be through in a minute, Mr. Brown. {To EssiE.) 
Now, young lady, you pay strict attention to me. And at the 
end of it you can decide for yourself. 

Essie (bowi^ig). Very well, sir. 

Ned. Years ago, a ship was wrecked on this coast and every 
one on board perished but an infant. It is unnecessary for 
me to tell you that you are the infant. For years your uncle 
had supposed that you as well as your parents had perished on 
the ill-fated vessel. But lately an old sailor died, who lived here 
at the time of the wreck, and before dying he revealed the fact 
that a child had been saved. In this way he first heard that 
you were alive. I was engaged by the gentleman to hunt you 
up and place in your hands the property that rightfully belongs 
to you. I am satisfied beyond a doubt that you are the child ! 
And it now rests solely with you whether you will go to your 
uncle or remain here with your adopted father. 

Essie {quietly). And you are waiting for my answer ? 

Ned {bowing). I am. As soon as I receive your answer I 
will leave this place forever. 

Essie {rising). Then here is your answer, sir. {Crosses and 
kneels beside Bill's chair.) I will remain with the only father 
I have ever known ! 

Ned. This is your final answer, then ? 

Essie {firmly). Yes. I will never leave him. 



28 THE wrecker's DAUGHTER. 

"Ned. (rising). Very well. My work is done. A lawyer will 
be down here some time this week to settle all the details of the 
property. I now bid you a very good mornmg. 

[Bows and exit L. c. 

Bill {looki7tg after him). Good-morning, sir. 

Essie {quietly). I'm glad he's gone, father ! 

Bill {stroking her hair). Essie, have you carefully considered 
what you are doing ? You are leaving your old uncle to remain 
with me. 

Essie. I have, and I am going to remain with you. So say 
no more about it. 

Bill {quietly), Very well, child. If such is your wish, I can 
say no more. 

Essie. I do wish it. {Quickly.) What became of the vessel 
that was so near being wrecked last night ? 

Bill. It escaped as if by a miracle. Either some one showed 
a light from the shore, or else she had a pilot on board who 
knew the waters, and took no chances in following the beacon 
light on the Devil's Rock. 

Essie. Do you know what vessel it was ? 

Bill. I do now, but not last night. 

Essie. What was the name ? 

Bill. The - McAdams " ! 

Essie {in amaze^nent). The "McAdams" ! 

Bill. Yes, it was the revenue boat. 

Essie {fervently). I am so glad now that the boat wasn't 
wrecked. 

Bill. And so am I. I would never have placed the light on 
the rock but for Jim Douglass. He called me a coward, and 
said I was trying to sell the boys to the government. 

Essie {aside). If he only knew the truth. {Aloud.) Father, 
I want you to promise me one thing. 

Bill. Well, Essie ? 

Essie. That you will give up this wild life and move ^way 
from here, and the evil men like Jim Douglass, and his asso- 
ciates. 

Bill {kissing her cheek). 1 promise, Essie. But you don't 
seem to like Douglass of late. What is the reason ? 

Essie. Father, listen to me a moment. What I am going to 
tell you will no doubt surprise you, but it's nothing but the 
truth. 

Bill. Go ahead, dear. 

Essie. Last night he had the impudence to ask me to marry 
him, and when I refused he threatened that if I did not consent 
he would place you and all the men in the hands of the govern- 
ment. 

Bill (jumping). What ! Jim Douglass betray us into the 



THE WRECKERS DAUGHTER. 29 

hands of our enemies ! ( Walking up and down.) Oh, the 
traitor ! 

Essie {rising). Yes, father, he is a traitor. While professing 
to be one of you, he has in reahty been a spy of the government. 

Bill {savagely). By God ! I'll kill him for this dirty work, 
I see now why he was so anxious for me to light the fires last 
night. He was sure I would be captured, and once out of the 
way the scoundrel would then have you at his mercy. 

Essie {in surprise). Do you think so ? 

Bill. I am sure of it. But I'll settle with him for this, the 
traitor ! 

Pat enters /i^^^^ l. c. 

Essie {in amazement). Why, Pat, what has happened ? 
You look almost scared to death ! 

Pat {dropping into a chair). An* shure I am. 

Bill. What has happened ? {Shaking him.) Hurry up, 
man. Out with it. 

Pat. Shure they just found the dead body of Douglass on the 
beach, with a knife in his heart, and the word " traitor" pinned 
to his breast. 

Essie {in amazement). Dead ! 

Bill {putting hat on). Come on, Pat, and show me where 
the body is. I want to see the face of the man I trusted as a 
friend, and who in reality was my worst enemy. 

Pat. I'll go with you, sir. \Both exeunt L. C. 

Essie {solus). How strange is death ! Last night the man 
was well and hearty, deeply employed with the schemes he had 
in mind, while now he is dead, struck down, perhaps, by some 
one who trusted him as a friend, as my father has done. His 
schemes will never do for him now, as he is beyond all the 
schemes of the world. {Looking around.) I wonder what be- 
came of Mr. King last night, when he left, after coming to my 
rescue ? I haven't seen him to-day yet. No one but Jim 
Douglass knew that Mr. King was the lieutenant of the gun- 
boat *♦ McAdams." And now the mouth of the traitor is forever 
sealed in death. I am glad that my father had no hand in his 
removal. 

Phil Qut^x^ from l. c. 

Phil. Good-morning, Miss Essie. 

Essie. Good-morning, sir. [Bows, 

PMl. Miss Essie. I am going to leave here this morning, 
perhaps never to return. But, before I go, there is something I 
wish to say to you. What it is can be said in a few words. I 
want you to promise that you will become my wife. {Quickly.) 
I know this is rather sudden. {Anxiously.) What is your an- 
swer going to be, Essie ? 



30 THE WRECKER S DAUGHTER. 

Essie {slowly). Why, Mr. King, you take me so by surprise, 
I don't know what to answer. 

Phil {(jiiictly). Win you allow me to tell you what to say ? 

Essie {JioldUig down her head in confusion). Perhaps. 

Phil {in a whisper). Then, for Heaven's sake, say yes, and 
get me out of this suspense at once. What is it going to be, 
no or yes ? 

Essie {bashfully). Well, it's not exactly no 

Phil {quickly). Then, if it's not no, it surely must be yes. I 
hope I'm right. 

Essie. You are. The answer is yes. 

Phil {clasping her in his arins and kissing her passion- 
ately). My darling ! 

Essie {releasing herself). But first you must ask my father's 
consent. I am gomg to be an obedient daughter to him now 
as I have been in the past. 

Phil. Spoken like a true woman. Let us go and ask him at 
once. We'll both go and hunt him up, and lay the matter be- 
fore him. 

Essie. -Very well. \Both exeunt l. c. 

Pat enters /r (7 w r. 

Pat {stands before fire). I'm all in a shiver since I saw the 
dead body of me boss this morning. Shure he was a bad man, 
and he died the way he lived. Well, I'm glad it's him that's 
gone and not me. {Looks around.) Where is Lucy this morn- 
ing ? I haven't set me eyes on her yet. I do wish she'd come. 
Shure this is me last chance. If Lucy wants to marry me she'll 
have to say so pretty quick. An' if she don't, I'll leave for New 
York this very evening, So, she has but to say yes, and all is 
well ; no, and all is not well. 

Lucy enters /^^^/^ l. 

Lucy {seeing Pat). So you are here again, are you ? Were 
you out on the water this morning ? 

Pat. I was not. An', what's more, I'm not going on any 
more water ; so keep yer face closed about water, if ye don't 
want to make me angry ! 

Lucy. Then what are you doing around here, pray ? 

Pat. Shure I came to say good-bye to ye. 

Lucy {in ainazement). Good-bye ? 

Pat. Yes, I'm goin' to leave this part av the world for good. 

Lucy {aside). I wonder, is he in earnest 1 {Aloud.) I don't 
really suppose any one w^ill miss you very much. 

Pat {shrugging his shoulders), I suppose not. An' I don't 
think I'll miss any one very much, either. 

Lucy. Is that so ? 



THE WRECKERS DAUGHTER. 3 1 

Pat {noddmg his head). It is, and you are the very one .that 
knows it best. 

Lucy {seriously). Won't you think of me sometimes, Pat 1 
(Aside.) I do believe the man is in earnest ! 

Pat {aside). Now is me time to soak her ; she's weakenin*. 
{Aloud.) An' why should I ? 

Lucy. Oh, I don't know. We haven't been such bad friends, 
you know. 

Pat. An' we haven't been such good friends, either. 

Lucy. Perhaps I did tease you more than I should have 
done. But then it was only done in a friendly way. I really 
never meant any kind of harm. \Almost breaks dow7i. 

Pat {in ast07tishment). Shure, you're not going to cry, are 
ye ? Don't make yer purty eyes red by weepin' over the likes 
av me. Shure I'm not worth it at all. 

Lucy. But, Pat, I don't want you to go away from here. 
{Aside.) I hope he'll see I'm in earnest. 

Pat. You don't ? 

Lucy {shaking her head). No ! 

Pat {aside). Now is me chance to get her. {Aloud,) Then 
the only way ye can keep me here is to say yes whin I ask ye to 
be me wife. Will ye do that ? an' all will be forgiven. 

Lucy. When you ask me I will. 

Pat. Thin I'll ask ye now\ Lucy, will ye be me ow^n true 
an' lovin' wife ? 

Lucy. Of course I will, Pat. I'd have married you long 
ago, only I liked to tease you. 

Pat {laughing). Faith ye can tease me all ye like now, 
seein' that ye belong to me, body an' soul. 

Lucy {walking towards door L. c). Where are you going 
now ? 

Pat. To get a license. The only time I'll feel safe is whin 
we are united in wedlock. So keep up a good heart until I re- 
turn. 

Lucy. Very well, Pat. But haven't you forgotten some- 
thing ? 

Pat. Not that I know of. [Looks around. 

Lucy. Yes, you have. [Puckers up her lips. 

Pat {laughs). Oh, I see. {Kisses her.) A woman never 
forgets anythin' in that line. [Exit L. C. 

Lucy. I wonder, is there any girl in the world as happy as I 
am to-day ? 

Essie enters /;^^^^^ R. 

Essie {e7itering and hearing her). Yes, dear ; I am, I think. 
If my father consents to my engagement, all will be well. I 
really don't think he will refuse me. 

Lucy. Then you are going to marry the young officer of the 
revenue boat ? 



j2 THE WRECKER^S DAUGHTER. 

Essie. If my father consents, yes. 

Lucy. And if he don't ? 

Essie. Oh, I don't think he will refuse me. He has no 
grounds for complaint against Mr. King. He comes of a good 
family, so that can't stand against him. 

Lucy. I hope not. 

Essie (sincerely). Let us prepare for the worst then. 

Enter Bill and Vnii. from l. c. 

Bill {crossly). I don't care who you are, sir. You are noth- 
ing but a spy ! 

Phil {quietly). I beg your pardon, sir, but I am no spy. To 
tell you the honest truth, I came to this neighborhood to meet 
your daughter, if I could. 
' Bill {in amazement). Oh, you did, did you ? 

Phil {bowing). I did. I met her, and what's more, she has 
promised to be my wife. All we are waiting for now is for you 
to give us your consent. [EssiE crosses to the side of Phil. 

Bill. Is that true, Essie ? 

Essie {noddiitg). Yes, father. 

Bill. Then take her and be happy. I know it's no use for 
me to try and interrupt the course of true love. You can have 
her, my boy, and my best washes go with you. 

Phil. Then she is mine at last ? 

Bill. She is. 

Essie. Thank you, father. [Both walk up R. 

Bill {to Lucy). What is the matter with you, Lucy ? You 
look as solemn as an owl. What has happened t Are you 
waiting for any one ? 

Lucy. I am waiting for Pat. 

Bill. Where has he gone ? He was around here not long ago, 

Lucy. He went to get a license, sir. 

Bill {in surprise). A license ? What for ? 

Lucy. To get married. I promised to be his wife an hour ago. 

Bill. Will surprises never end .'* 

Pat enters /;^^^ l. c. on a run. 
Pat {holdi^tg np paper). Here is the license, Lucy. 
Lucy. I'm so glad. 

Bill. So you won her after all, did you ? 
Pat. Shure an* I did, sir. 

Bill {lighting pipe and sitting down before fire). The whole 
of you can make as much love as possible, but don't make a 
noise and wake me up. I'm going to take a quiet little nap. 
[Phil and Essie at window r. c; Pat and LuCY stand" 
ing by table ; Bill asleep at fire, 

SLOW CURTAIN. 



GGOige BiddlB's Readings. 



A representative collection of the most popular selections of this 
most popular elocutionist, including many not obtainable in any other 
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COME HERE!" 



as read by Mr. Kiddle. Many of the readings contained in this 
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The dialect recitations of Ackland Yon Boyle, vocalist and 
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C N T 

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SCHLAUSHEIMER DON't GoN- 
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SCHLAUSHEIMER PiTES HIM- 
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ENTS : 

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Little Jack Horner. 

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Legend of St. Christopher. 

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Yagon. 
The Watermill. 
Dot Leedle Loweeza. 
Schneider sees Leah. 
Ho^v Dennis took the 

Pledge. 
Lecture 'pout Hamlet. 
Bender as Hamlet. 



THREE NEW COMEDIES, 



MR. BOB. 

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KEENE'S SELECTIONS 



FOR READING AND ELOCUTION. 



A HAND-BOOK FOR TEACHERS AND STUDENTS. 

By J. W, KEENE, A.M., M.D. 

ll^mo, cloth .... Price, Sl.OO. 



An unexpected demand for a book of selections prepared for the 
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nie American Flag. 

The Baron's lasfBanquet. 

The Battle. 

The Battle Flags. 

Battle of Fonteiioy. 

Battle of the Highlands. 

Battle of Ivry. 

Battle of ^loi-garten. 

The Beleaguered City. 

The Bells. 

The Bells of Shandon. 

Bernardo del Carpio. 

The Blue and the Gray. 

Bre:ik, Break, Break. 

The Brook. 

Brutus on the Death of 
Caesar. 

B'lgle Song. 

Buriil of Little Xell. 

AVolsey's Farewell. 

Catiline's Defiance. 

The Cavalry Charge. 

The Charcoal INTan. 

Character of Hamlet. 

Charge of Light Brigade. 

Clarence's Dream. 

Classical Learning. 

Count Candespinas' Ban- 
ner. 

Creeds of the Bells. 

Curfew must not Ring. 

The Death-bed. 

Death-bed of Ben. Arnold 

Death of Little Joe. 



CONTENTS : 

The Demon Ship. 

Description of a Thunder 
Storm. 

The Diver. 

Edinburgh after Flodden. 

Eloquence of AVebster. 

Execution of Montrose. 

Extract from Ivanhoe. 

Falstatf's Recruits. 

The Famine. 

Field of Waterloo. 

Glove and the Lions. 

God. 

The Gray Forest Eagle. 

Hamlet to the Players. 

Herve Riel. 

The High Tide. 

Hohenlinden. 

Hotspur's Defence. 

How He Saved St. Mi- 
chaels. 

Irish Aliens. 

Judicial Tribunals. 

Kearney at Seven Pines. 

Knocking at the Gate. 

KoenigsAvinter. 

Legend of Bragenz. 

Liberty and L^nion. 

Lochinvar's Ride. 

The Lost Chord. 

Magdalena. 

Massachusetts V o 1 u n - 
teers. 

Mother and Poet. 



Mrs. Caudle's Cold. 

On Prospect Hill. 

The Passage. 

The Passions. 

Perils of Ydiith. 

The Polish Boy. 

Pride of Battery B, 

Queen ]\[ab. 

Reply to Corry, 

Ride from Ghent. to Aix. 

Right of Free Discussion. 

Rome and Carthage. 

Sam AVeller's Valentine. 

Seventh Plague of Egypt. 

Sham us O'Brien. 

Silas' Story. 

Silence. 

Song of the Camp. 

Song of the Forge. 

Song of the Shealing. 

Sparta cus to the Gladia- 
tors. 

Storvof the Faithful Soul. 

Tact and Talent. 

Thanatopsis. 

The Two Roads. 

The Two Villages. 

Under Canvas, AVounded. 

AVarden of the Cinque 
Ports. 

AA^ind and the Moon. 

The AA^'ounded Soldier. 

AVreck of the Hesperus. 

Young Gray Head. 



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